Brazil

OFFICIAL C

93/HKS/608, you've got quite a list of misdemeanours here, haven't you? All this is going to take time and money, and I'm afraid, according to your bank statement and credit rating here, you're likely to be in deep financial trouble by the end of it. Now, either you plead guilty to say, seven or eight of these charges, which'll bring the costs down to within your reach, or you can borrow a sum to be negotiated, from us, at very competitive rates. We can offer you something at say, eleven and a half per cent, over thirty years. But you will have to buy insurance to qualify for his scheme.

OFFICIAL D

All you have to do is to agree to sign the appropriate boxes on these forms. Yes or no?

SAM

I'm not guilty! Not guilty you stupid bastar...

The Guard closes the flap. Once again darkness and confusion, until another SECURITY GUARD opens the flap again to reveal another TWO OFFICIALS.

OFFICIAL E

(examining forms)

Now, since you've elected to plead not guilty on all these charges, you'd be well advised to take some sort of insurance cover. Preferably comprehensive, or if you'd prefer, something more specific – say, against electrical charges over f70.00. And for food and accommodation costs of say, £800.00. Detention can be a very expensive business.

OFFICIAL F

Now, before we bore you with the small print perhaps you'd like to tell us whether you'd like to sign this insurance acceptance form or not. Think carefully before you decide. Thinking ahead in financial matters is always the wise course.

The flap is closed and opened again very quickly – NEW OFFICIALS are revealed. This process repeats again and again – getting faster and faster. The Officials' faces seem to become a changing blur. Their voices overlap in a growing cacophony. The desk and the other items in the room remain static. To add to this disturbing effect the Forces of Darkness begin to gather in the room behind the Officials. As they increase in number they begin to press forward unseen by the Officials. Soon they fill the view through the flap.

OFFICIAL

We're here to save you and the tax payer money.

OFFICIAL

Would you like to pay the premium for a single room with a shower and a soft bed?

OFFICIAL

For a small charge we can keep visits from friends and relatives down to to a minimum.

OFFICIAL

Plead guilty, it's easier, quicker, and cheaper for everyone.

OFFICIAL

We're doing a survey... Aimed at providing a better service.

OFFICIAL

Do you think the present system is A. efficient, B. inefficient?

OFFICIAL

As a taxpayer are you A. impressed, B. unimpressed

INT. STONE SHIPTIMELESS

CUT TO Sam struggling with the Forces of Darkness. He is overwhelmed by the black hordes. They fill the screen. Sam disappears under their onslaught. A pause. Then Sam is raised, spread-eagled, above the black sea of the Forces. Strong hands hold him. The maniacal laughter starts up. Sam is turned in its direction.

CUT TO a shot over the top of the mass of robed FIGURES. Rising from the ruins of the stone columns, the black cloth thing flaps menacingly towards camera. We can see the towering filing cabinet skyscrapers of the Storeroom of Knowledge in the background.

Sam looks terrified. As the thing hovers above Sam in all its huge twisting awfulness, it slowly begine to unfold like some deadly flower blooming in stop motion.

Sam freezes as the interior becomes invisible. There in the billowing blackness is the Girl. She is beckoning.

GIRL

Sam.

But the VOICE is no longer the mysterious feminine voice of before – it is the voice of the maniacal laughter.

Sam struggles with the restraining hands. He twists and turns, but to no avail. From the darkness above him descends the Jolly Gent looking just like Mr. Helpmann) on his window washer's platform. However he is now dressed as Father Christmas.

GENT

Sam, what are we going to do with you?

GIRL

Ha ha ha ha ha.

INT. CELL – DAY / NIGHT

The filing cabinets of the Storeroom of Knowledge dissolve squares of padding that form the walls of a cell. The laughter echoes round the cell. Sam sees that Mr. Helpmann, in his wheelchair is watching him. He is dressed as Father Christmas. They are alone in the cell. Sam scrunches up into the corner.

HELPMANN

Sam, what are we going to do with you? Can you hear me, Sam?

SAM

(in a hoarse urgent whisper)

Where's Jill? What have you done to her? Where is she?!

HELPMANN

Gillian Layton?

SAM

Yes, you've got to get me out of here. I've got to find her.

HELPMANN

I understand, Sam, I know exactly how you feel. So I brought you a bottle of barley water.

Helpmann holds up a bottle of barley water.

SAM

(desperately)

Help me!

HELPMANN

I assure you, Sam, I'm doing everything within my power. But the rules of the game are laid down, and we all have to play by them – even me.

SAM

This is all a mistake! Don't you understand?!

HELPMANN

Yes, well, from the Department's point of view you're certainly a bit of an own goal, but...

SAM

I'm not a terrorist! You must know that! I'm not guilty! Get me out of here!

HELPMANN

Sam, if you've been going out there and playing a straight bat, all the way down the line, you've got absolutely nothing to worry about.

SAM

Please, I've got to find Jill.

HELPMANN

Sam, I think I ought to tell you... I'm afraid she's upped stumps and retired to the pavilion.

Sam looks blank.

Thrown in the towel.

SAM

(takes a moment to work this out)

Dead?

Helpmann nods.

HELPMANN

Yes, it's all a bit confusing but, it seems she was killed resisting arrest.

SAM

(relieved)

No, no... I did that...

Helpmann looks surprised. Sam shuts up.

HELPMANN

The odd thing is it appears to have happened twice... a bit of a disputed call, I'm afraid.

Sam has gone catatonic.

HELPMANN

(starting to go)

So, there you are. All I can say is, don't fall at the last fence. The finishing post's in sight. See you in the paddock. Good luck. Keep your eye on the ball. Got to go... Can't keep the orphans waiting.

Helpmann goes. A GUARD helps him out and then returns with ANOTHER to help put the restraining bag over Sam.

GUARD

Don't fight it, son... confess quickly... Before they get into the expensive procedures. If you hold out too long you could jeopardise your credit rating.

The bag blacks everything out.

INT. INFORMATION RETRIEVAL ROOM

The bag comes off. Sam finds himself strapped into an Information Retrieval chair. The CAMERA tracks back frighteningly fast revealing that he chair stands in an unbelievably vast room. The walls curve up and out of sight.

The floor doesn't seem to be a floor at all – strange light undulates beneath. The whole effect is one of total disorientation and overwhelming size. Sam is desperately trying to take it in. Next to the chair is a porcelain tray of evil and frighteningly ambiguous instruments. Worrysome electrical connections and meters are near at hand. As the Guards leave Sam to take up their positions near the distant door they hand over documents to the white-coated INFORMATION RETRIEVAL OFFICER.

GUARD

11/AFT/607, sir.

They all sign the document which the I.R. Officer retains after giving carbon copies to the Guards. The Guards then proceed to the door and take up positions on either side of it. The I.R. Officer heads toward Sam. We can now see he wears a mask. It is the face of the Forces of Darkness. A smiling baby doll face. Sam sits, mesmerized, watching him approach. Within fifteen or twenty yards of Sam the I.R. Officer comes to an abrupt halt. He seems to sway. After a moment he turns slightly, hesitantly, giving the impression that he may return to the door. He looks at the Guards, pauses, straightens himself up, takes a deep breath and continues again towards Sam, rather more briskly than before. Sam watches, terrified and fascinated. The I.R. Officer goes to the table which is covered with evil-looking surgical-type instruments – he blunders clumsily into it, knocking a couple of them onto the floor. He picks then up quickly and replaces them.

SAM

Jack?

The I.R. Officer reacts to this as if he's been hit in the solar plexus, and he tries to disguise it by simulating a coughing fit. He then picks up a nasty looking implement and advances on Sam.

SAM

Jack?... Jack?

JACK

(hysterically from behind mask)

Shut up!

SAM

Jack, I'm innocent! Help me.

JACK

Bastard!!!

SAM

This is all a mistake. Jack, please take that mask off.

Jack is very close to Sam, he is shaking. He lifts up his mask to reveal sweaty face, contorted with fear and anger.

JACK

You stupid bastard!

SAM

What?

JACK

How could you do this to me?

SAM

Help me, Jack! I'm frightened!

JACK

How do you think I feel? You shit!

SAM

Jack...

JACK

(pulling down mask)

Shut up! This is a professional relationship!

Jack comes at Sam with the horrifying implement.

SAM

JACK!!... You can't... No, don't!

Sam's eyes widen in terror. From his POV we look up at Jack approaching. The ceiling above and behind Jack is suddenly and. loudly penetrated by the Ceiling Hole Machine, and in an instant without benefit of "fireman's pole", the commando-like figure of Mr. Tuttle gun in hand, leaps through the hole. Tuttle is immediately followed by similar looking MEN with balaclavas, guerilla-type clothing, and very efficient guns. Jack is cut down. So are the TWO GUARDS who have opened the door from the corridor and are shooting into the room.

Tuttle raps out into a walkie-talkie

TUTTLE

Detonate!